


Forgotten Nightmares That Don't Sleep

by Mersayde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slight Canon Divergence, Smut, Will is asexual and the Ace always tops, he does it for chilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersayde/pseuds/Mersayde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During one cold winter night, Frederick lies awake mentally berating himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Nightmares That Don't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [khaleesi_lauren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesi_lauren/gifts).



> You can thank my friend for this because they begged me to write something for these two. They basically motivated me throughout the process. Much appreciated. 
> 
> Slight canon divergence. Anything after season 3 episode 8 is practically dead to me.

_“And I tried to shed my skin to rid myself of scars, but they were carved into my bones too.” –Unknown_

     Frederick found himself lying awake at hours in the night he should be asleep, cold air brushed against his sweaty and clammy skin where the blankets failed to meet his limbs. On nights like this when he can't find the strength to pull himself out of his own mind, he wishes he could push the world away. Everything just seemed to hurt.

     This was the fourth time this month he lied awake in the middle of the night, trying to regain what was left of him. With tired eyes Frederick studied the sleeping form next to him and watched as the moonlight washed over Will’s body, highlighting everything he loved about him. Will's loose taupe colored curls flopped wildly around his head, with no distinct direction or destination. Frederick loved Will’s hair. Loved tugging it, and pulling it, loved getting his fingers tangled in it when they kissed, loved to comb it despite the all the stubborn and playful groans emitted from the other man. “I’m not your pet. You are aware of that, right Doctor?” Will would chuckle out, holding no actual signs of resistance. More often than not, Will relished in his gentle touches.

     A soft breeze crept its way in past the narrow space between the window. Will had a habit of leaving it open just so during cold nights, knowing that Frederick would cling to his body heat. Will not only took advantage of his heat deficiency, but teased him about it. “Is my Chilly, chilly?” He would joke and Frederick couldn’t help the string of insults that escaped him in those moments.

     Will deserved better than him. Better than an emotionally distant asshole, that has too many drawbacks and limitations to even be considered functional. Frederick leaned his head against the headboard, trying to ignore the sudden plunge in his thoughts; but they were hard to avoid, they kept scratching at the back of his mind and begged for attention.

     The voice fed off of his self-doubt and vulnerability. However, during the days where his smile seemed bigger and brighter he could ignore the voice, force it back into a compartment of his mind that he never wanted to touch; other days it forced its way to the front of his mind, demanding attention, screaming louder and louder until he snapped. Sometimes the worst days weren’t the obvious ones; sometimes it was the days when the voice was a soft nothing in the back of his head, whispering to him. Telling him all the things that he feared, all the things he pushed away.

     The shaken man grabbed his prosthetic teeth and colored contact and set them in place, something that became second nature to him, it even brought him comfort in hours like these. Just the illusion of obtaining his old face was enough to sedate him at times. After the first year his scar began to naturally settle, but the natural process of healing was too tiresome. Frederick was so concerned with his superficial complications he spent thousands of dollars on cosmetic reconstructive surgeries, dissatisfied with the initial product, his sunken face gaining lift and life little by little. At the end of the day, the reflection that stared back at him in the mirror is still, to put it simply, utterly disgusting. It had taken Will years of gentle coaxing and pleasant manipulations to get his lover to feel comfortable without his set of prosthetics. Years, and yet he could only do it around Will and in the comfort of their home. He could see the disappointment written on Will’s face every time he said 'no' and retreated into his shell. He loved the man so much, it hurt him to see such pain and disapproval in his eyes. Maybe he deserved it. He ruined so many people, including Will, for his own personal gain that it had to be karma making amends.

     Yet, Will did something that Frederick wasn’t worthy of; he forgave Frederick. Will’s forgiveness was just like him, ineffable. It took a lot for Will to forgive and to forget, to move on. The curly haired man’s forgiveness felt like a blanket of misty rain; enveloping and coaxing entities back to life after a deadly drought. It felt so peaceful and comforting. He didn’t deserve such relief, such forgiveness. In his mind, he was no better than Hannibal; both used their position and title to mess with things that shouldn’t be messed with and for personal advancements. Both watched as the people’s lives they interfered with crumbled and sat idly on the sidelines taking notes. At least the cannibalistic serial killer still had all of his face. Will deserved a man with a nice face, stable mental state (for what it seemed), and phlegmatic confidence. Will doesn’t deserve the scathing, labyrinthine, void that is Frederick Chilton.

     Whenever he became like this his thoughts jumped from one to the other, whirling around him at too fast a rate to catch. Silent sobs raked through his body as his mind affixed dots to things that held no logical correlation. He frantically alternated between clutching at the sheets; to his hair and to any piece of skin he could feel, dangerously close to breaking it. He deserved every single scar and every single ounce of pain. He could feel it happening, the room spinning and freezing, the harsh wind grabbing at him, his senses flooding around him. He was spiraling and all he could do was watch as his fears materialized.

     “I deserve this,” Frederick managed to whisper, what seemed to be the mantra of the night, with the little oxygen his lungs provided. So he sat there, a struggling ball of pain and anxiety where his thoughts and insecurities consumed him. Rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. It felt like something was being wrapped around his throat; the sensation had him clawing at his skin trying to force himself to breathe. A drying throat, burning tears, painful gasps, and violent shaking was all Frederick was reduced to at the moment. When the need for air became too much he got up; but his actions were halted by a soft voice, barely heard over the sound of his heart beating against his chest.

     “Frederick,” Will mumbled, his voice hoarse from a deep sleep. Will’s only source of lighting was from the moon. He couldn’t see Frederick’s pained expression, but he could see his heaving chest and the slight glint of a tear, he could feel his lover shaking and Will was worried. “Love, are you alright?” Will knew the answer to his question when Frederick turned away from him and tried to get up again, disregarding his outstretched hand.

     “Don’t,” Frederick faintly warned. The older man didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. Will heard how tired he was, how hurt he was. This isn’t the first time he let his mind run off like this, though, it’s not as bad as it used to be. Will remembers when they first started their romantic relationship, both still hurt and suffering from their encounters with Hannibal; it was messy and distant. Instead of seeking comfort and solace in each other, they pushed each other away and dealt with it in destructive ways. It took them awhile to get better, step-by-step, to finally hold each other’s hands during their strides and their relapses. “I don’t deserve you.” It was quiet, barely loud enough to be a whisper; but it was there and it was heard. Will sighed, sitting all the way up. Frederick’s back was facing Will, legs hanging over the bed and back hunched. Will moved to drape his arms over Frederick’s shoulders, his hold tightened as he felt the other man pull away. He placed a gentle kiss behind his ear and watched as the man he loved close his eyes in resignation.

     “Frederick-"

     “Will, just don’t. I can’t—not now, not ever.” He inveighed. They stayed like that for a while with Frederick in Will’s arms, listening to Frederick’s pained breaths. When Will asked what he meant by that fragmented statement, Frederick sighed, shoulders tensing. “It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” He lied weakly.

     “Frederick.” Will snapped, dropping his arms. Will noticed that even though his lover was a psychiatrist, who helped others with their complications and issues, he neglected his. Watching others lives fall apart is easier than watching your own, helping others build it back up seemed simpler than trying to build yours. Frederick likes to detach himself from his emotions; if they can’t help him gain what he wants then they’re useless to him. He convinced himself that his mental perplexities and quandaries were his own fault and his own to deal with. After years of being together, Will also realized that if he didn’t push his partner to talk about it, pull him out of his own head, Frederick would be as cold as the winter night and empty as Hannibal’s conscience.

     “I-I had another nightmare, same as last.” Frederick mumbled. Will knew this nightmare, it seemed that Frederick’s subconscious loved to play it out. One night, he was able to get Frederick to describe the nightmare in full detail and realized it mainly made an appearance during his episodes of PTSD and bouts of mild depression. The nightmare that plagued the smaller man, to Will, was irrational and something that could never happen; but to Frederick it was so vivid, so feasible, that he woke up screaming and in cold sweats.

     “Tell me; what did you see?” Will urged. Frederick gripped at the sheets again, biting his bottom lip in apprehension, face scrunching up. 

     “Wi-"

     “Tell me,” He said softly, cutting the other off before he could protest. Will positioned himself next to Frederick, whom was still hanging off the side of their bed; one arm propped up against a raised knee, the other laid behind the distraught man sinking into the comforter. Will grabbed Frederick’s smaller hands and entwined them together with his. “Whenever you’re ready. Time and place.” He added, swirling his thumb on top of the other's in a soothing manner.

     “It was when you were In Baltimore’s hospital for the criminally insane, and I went to visit you. You finally agreed to let me study you, psychoanalyze you. I was beyond thrilled, to such degree that I didn’t mind the peculiar time of night you requested; didn’t even second guess it.” He remembered Will’s harmless smile as he entered the dimly lit room and how it wiped completely from his face as he sat down.

     He tried to start a conversation with Will, but the other man seemed too deep in thought to pay attention. But then he saw it, the glint in his beautiful blue-green eyes. Frederick could look at them all day, especially like that, shining brightly and intensely despite his apathetic demeanor. He looked happy to see Frederick and for a moment Frederick felt his heart swell, but before he could smile back he realized that Will wasn’t smiling at him, but behind him.

 _'Hello Will, you did exactly what we talked about.'_ Frederick turned around at that voice, startled.

 _'Hannibal? Why are you here? What’s going on here?'_  Panic rose upon hearing a loud reverberation of metal locks bouncing off the ground, rolling at his feet. He tried to run, but with his cane and panicked state it was near impossible to escape Hannibal.

     “The next thing I know the lights start flickering until they shut off completely.” The nightmare always felt too real. He could feel the sweat prickling his skin in fear at the buzzing sound of a busted electrical circuit, laboring to stay on. He could still feel wear Hannibal gripped his arms tightly, the bruises that came from thrashing around, but all that was earned was a light chuckle at his attempts. “I woke up on a metal table, same one from when Gideon—you know.” It was cold against his skin. The thin fabric of the hospital gown didn’t provide much insulation; goose bumps present and hairs standing up on the back of his neck. “Your eyes went dead when you looked at me. You said something about karma and handed Hannibal his tools—Will I-I don’t-“ He let go of Will’s hand and ran his through his hair. “I can’t.”

     Will noticed the goose bumps and the slight shiver returning to his lover’s body. “It’s okay, I know what happens next.” He kissed his lover’s shoulder before sliding off the bed to close the window. He stays there watching the wind pick snow up off the ground. “That’s the part where we dig, and cut and reach for your heart, saying you don’t deserve such an… intricate and emotional instrument. Which is odd, considering your heart isn’t responsible for emotions.” He said, trying (and failing) to add so humor to the situation. Sometimes Frederick really couldn’t, so Will stepped back, figuratively and literally. He knew Frederick’s boundaries and respected them.

     “Stop. Stop it, Will.  _Please!_ ” Frederick begged, tears falling down his cheeks in miniature waterfalls. Hearing it from another person was just as painfully vivid and reminded him of when he burdened his love with this same, exact routine.

_Pathetic._

     “You screamed out to me, begged me to stop; just like now. You were in a lot of pain, which is reasonable since your heart was being ripped from your body, but something cut you deeper than that scalpel did,” He continued. He respected his lover’s boundaries for the most part. Knowing your partners boundaries is necessary, but differentiating between boundaries and barriers is crucial. Boundaries are a means to connect and respect, barriers were a means to distance and conceal oneself. This was a barrier. “Betrayal. I left you for Hannibal and I left you there to die, to scream your silent afflictions alone. You called out for me, cried for me and I ignored you.” He turned around, facing Frederick who was in the same position he left him in. He made his way back over to the bed standing in between his knees. Something seemed to have finally snapped in Frederick as his posture changed an he wrapped his arms around Will’s waist tightly.

     “You always chose him, no matter what I said or how much I begged, you never came back to me! I deserve it though, all of it. A part of me knows that's how it should've happened, you leaving me for something better.” Frederick cried into his partner’s abdomen, wetting the pale skin with hysterical tears. Will’s confused stance softened, he pulled away slightly, loosening the tight grip. Will kneeled in front of his love, placing a hand on the puffy cheeks now flushed with a pink tint. His usually clean shaven and bare face is replaced by a harsh stubble, not yet developing past a mild 5’oclock shadow. As much as Frederick disliked looking unpresentable, he couldn’t be bothered with shaving these past couple of days. The dark circles around his eyes, however, said everything they needed to about his current mental state.

     “Frederick look at me,” He demanded and waited for those pair of dark green eyes to link with his. Chilton's eyes matched his general human aura, Will always thought. Filled with jealousy, low self-esteem and resentment, though he tried to hide it behind a quick smile and sass. Oh, did he hide it well with his sass. “Listen to me, I fell in love with  _you_ , not Hannibal. That man… is  _toxic_ , insidious, something I needed to cleanse myself of. He was stuck there—to me, he possessed my thoughts, had me hiding inside of my mind with him, he fucked my life up just for recreation. He showed me what hell felt like, what evil lied awake inside of him. Hannibal gave me-us nightmares and matching scars. You’ve only ever given me warmth and constructive company. You brought me out from that dark place I was in. It took me a while to see it, because as you know, I’m a socially inept idiot, but I saw it. You brought this- this light to me that I never knew I wanted to bask in until I felt it overwhelm me. You were- _are_ my most pleasant distraction.” Will affirmed, he wanted Frederick to know how much he meant to him, how much he loved him.

     “Love isn’t some  _magical_ cure for psychological torment and trauma, nor can it heal emotional scarring.” He stammered slightly, avoiding eye contact.

     “I’m fully aware of that, doctor. I’m just saying it could help. Show the other that they aren’t alone, that they have someone to come home to. Our scars tell a story, that we sometimes don’t care to remember. They are our bodies own mnemonic system, reminding us of when people and things apart of our lives tried to devastate, destroy, and bend us until we felt like we were fading away. They can be markings that bind and weld our character— or areas of fibrous tissue. It’s subjective, honestly. One day I hope you realize these things, those scars, could never hinder how I feel about you.” Will consoled. 

     Frederick’s body is riddled with scars ascribed to isolated events that always seemed to trace back to Hannibal Lecter. He used to make a big deal about his outward appearance, his designer and hand tailored suits, his shoes, even his cologne, all things masking his insecurities internally. He couldn’t hide the ugly that he was keeping inside anymore, so it all seemed to spill over in his darkest hours—when he’s sleeping. Will shifted his weight to place a hand on the long scar that was one of the reasons for his lover’s nightmares, shifting the shorter man closer to him, and placing a kiss on his nose and lips. Frederick wrapped his arms and legs around the taller frame and the curly haired man took the opportunity to lift him up and place him on his back.

     The mattress dipped on either side of Frederick’s head where Will placed his hands, planting small lingering kisses on the doctor's collarbone.

     “And your ass, for one, is far more phenomenal than Hannibal’s.” He said, noticing where one of his hand was still located. He gripped the taut muscle, emitting a small laugh from Frederick. Will stopped his trail of kisses to smile up at him; he loved making him laugh.

     “For someone so perceptive, you can be obnoxious.” Frederick scoffed and grabbed Will’s face, bringing their lips together. Salty tears still lingering between their lips, but neither could find the resolve to care. 

     “Don’t forget cute,” Will mumbled before a quick peck. “I love you and I want you to know that I will always bring you back home.” He said pulling away briefly, and started to leave a chain of tender love bites down his partner's chest. Frederick shivered in response, grabbing the back of Wills head, tangling his fingers in it.

     Frederick grew to love Will, even when the younger man was so obsessed with Hannibal, he couldn’t give him the time of day. He hadn’t realized when he first became interested in the man, but interest turned into infatuation and soon to craving and before he knew it, he was clutching onto his heart, pleading to let go of the idea of Will; because Frederick is a smart man who knows when to cut his losses. “Frederick,” Will started, sensing the tension in the shorter man.

     “Then make me  _feel it_ ," He pulled Will down connecting their lips; his lips were soft against Frederick’s slightly bruised ones, moving as if on a mission. The older man wrapped his, already raised, leg around Will’s lower body, pressing their groins together. "Bring me back home."

     They both subsumed painful memories, dwelling in the horrors of their past, but together they could ease the others deep agonies, could reduce the others aching. Will moved at an assiduously slow pace, attentive to any miscalculations.

      _Leave it to Will to overthink the one thing that required more action than thought,_ the doctor mused to himself. Frederick wanted more; he wanted to forget about his insecurities, about Hannibal, about his nightmares, and forget about the dark things that crept up on him like shadows; but he couldn’t with Will acting like he was made of glass. He ground his hips harder against Will, causing him to bite down on Frederick’s lips and groan in pleasure 

     “Will, I’m not going to break if you touch me,” Will raised his eyebrow, letting out a huff. “Well maybe, if you do it right.” Frederick purred with a sultry smirk. And that’s what started it. Both men touched each other with a deep want, searching and settling, pinching and tickling, rolling and fumbling. They kissed each other like they were exploring and discovering the others depth for the first time. Will almost lost it when Frederick did that _thing_ , with his tongue that made his head spin.

     “Oh  _god_ ,” Will growled. He broke away from Frederick’s mouth, he wanted to take his time and tease, and that was all about to go down the drain. He averted his attention to his lover’s neck, sucking and licking that sweet spot that made Frederick writhe and beg. Frederick’s hands detached themselves from his lover’s hair and latched onto tie on Will's pajamas, trying desperately to rid the other of the restricting cloth. “A little impatient, are we, Doctor?” Will cooed, grabbing the wandering hands and pinning them down. Frederick groaned and rolled his hips, grounding their erections harder together. Will cursed under his breath, moving to caress the dusty rose-colored nipples with his tongue. He continued to tease Frederick with light flicks, touches and caresses, giving the older man small tastes of what could become of the night. Finally, Will undid the tie on Frederick's pajamas, sliding them, and his boxers, off.

     Frederick hated when Will teased him like this and Will knew that, but Will also knew that it got the other man unbelievably aroused. Will liked the fact that he could bring such a hot instinctual response out of the other, so much so that he disregarded the empty hatred that was thrown towards him everytime.

     “You’re turn.” Frederick rasped, hastily returning the favor. Without missing a beat, they began grinding on and grasping each other, clawing at each other's skin, for an entirely different reason and purpose from before. Will made his way down Frederick’s chest and stomach, giving his scar extra attention with his lips and tongue. “Will,” Frederick hissed, impulsively arching his body into Will. Will reaching his destination with a chaste kiss, reluctantly moved to grab the lube out of their nightstand, feeling the cold temperature of the room flush over him. Returning to the his partners waiting arousal, he worked his tongue over the slit where a drop of pre-cum was sliding out. The younger man worked his tongue over the tip, gliding along the length.

     “Oh god.” Frederick bucked his hips accidently impaling Will. “S-sorry.. I-I didn’t mean to,” He sputtered. Will hummed and stopped, waiting for the slight pain to pass; not entirely responding to his lover’s apologies. “You don’t have t-to-ah!” Frederick's stammering was cut off by Will’s slicked middle finger circling around his puckered entrance. The curly haired man continued to playfully roll and flick his tongue around his partner’s length, occasionally hollowing his cheeks around it, while gently pushing his finger inside of Frederick. A moan deep within the smaller man's throat escaped him and he dug his hands in Will’s curls. They stayed like that for a short while, Will working, now two of his fingers, inside of Frederick, stretching him and stimulating his prostate. Frederick is now a whimpering mess, tightening and bucking at Will’s touches, caught in a delirious state of pure need.

     When it became too much for the to handle, he pulled Will up, crashing their lips together, embracing and tasting the other. Frederick reached for the container, working it onto Will’s dick. Will broke away from the kiss, panting beside his lover’s ear, nibbling gently on the sensitive lobe. Growing restless with need, Frederick massaged the lube onto the both of them, tugging and stroking enticingly, begging for more. He nudged Will’s backside with his calf and the curly haired man quickly caught on, sitting back on his knees to grab his loves hips, lifting them up. Frederick pulled Will down for another hungry kiss, wrapping his legs around the younger man, trying to align themselves with each other.

     The room was pervaded with loud moans, and curses as Will pushed his way into Frederick. Fredericks body fully engulfing him.

     “Will- _fuck_ -move already.” Frederick cursed, impatiently pressing himself down on his partner’s erection. Will pushed Frederick’s hips back down on the bed with a grunt and began to set a dizzying pace. Frederick met Will’s thrust with need, clutching onto he curly haired man. The feel of Frederick’s nails digging into his skin, drove him faster, humming at the tightening heat around him. Frederick clung to his partner, shuddering for breath, throwing his head back. Will gripped the sheets beside Frederick, marking his exposed neck.

     Will’s thrust became deeper and harder, repeatedly hitting that spot that made Frederick’s hips jerk uncontrollably. Cries of lust escaped the shorter man, as he was pulled closer and closer to release. With adept fingers Will grabbed his lover’s dick, rubbing and stroking, feeling his partner clench around him from the pleasure.

     “Will, I-I’m-” Frederick whimpered.

     “Yeah, m-me too.” Will stuttered before the two lovers shared overwhelming climaxes, becoming an entanglement of trembling limbs, constricting muscles, and slowed breaths. They drowned in each other’s presence, letting their body’s comfort one another, basking in the afterglow.

     After a few minutes, they moved to separate themselves, wearily. Will kissed his spent partner’s forehead, mumbling a quick question: “Bath?”

     “Mhm,” Frederick murmured, eyes shutting tiredly.

     “Do I have to carry you?” Will shouted from the bathroom, waking Frederick from his light nap.

     “Will,” He wearied, not too concerned with the younger man’s proposal. “do I have to remind you about the last time you attempted to carry me across the room? Not to mention, you almost killed the both of us.” It had not been a pleasant ordeal, resulting in both men icing sore limbs and bruises for a couple of days. Frederick rolled his eyes in annoyance when his partner exclaimed that the incident happened almost a year ago and that he’s been working on his -quote- ‘Perfect body sculpted after Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man,’ that was gifted to him by Adonis himself. “Sure, I’ll give it a couple more months, or years, depends on how long it will take for Adonis to realize his gift is defective.” Frederick stated, content with his retort.

______

 

     Frederick relaxed as the hot water cascaded down his back, washing away the remnants of his rosemary and chamomile scented shampoo. He leaned back into his lover’s gentle touch as he continued to massage Frederick’s scalp tenderly.

     “See, don’t you feel better? Washing away your sins and insecurities accumulated throughout the day?” They bathed together like this occasionally, whenever they were both feeling romantic or mainly when one was having a, to put it lightly, shit day. It served as an emotional catharsis for the anxious lover’s.

     The hot water seemed to work out knots and wrinkles of the day, and the soothing scent of bubbles and expensive shampoo, never failed to desensitize the couple; allowing them to slip into their own pleasant world with ease. Chilton, in a way, agreed with Will’s statement, just not how he said it; he thinks Will makes it sound like he made a philosophical revelation rather than an overrated and overused remark.

     “Will, you know I like it better when something’s going in your mouth, not out of it, right?” Frederick states and hears Will mumble something along the lines of having feelings and what not, grabbing his partners favorite (and very expensive) shampoo again to untwist the top.

      _I deserve this_ , Will thought to himself.

     The familiar smell of his favorite shampoo, wafted up Frederick’s nose. He snapped his head to the side to scold his lover. He knew that scent anywhere. “What are you doing?” He fumed.

     “N-nothing just treating myself to some well deserved maintenance,” Will replied, nonchalantly applying the suave liquid to the curly nest on his head.

     “Su culo barato no merece nada!” The once calm man, now livid, screamed in his native language, slipping all too quickly and easily from his tongue. “That’s my shampoo! Put it back!” Will caught on, lagging slightly; he was fluent in Spanish, though he has trouble capturing the full accent. Rolling his Rs, in Will’s words, was his ‘hamartia’.

     Like the stealthy and subtle man that Will Graham is, knocked all the products and soaps sitting on the ledge down when trying to frantically place the stolen one back. They watched as the unassuming objects went flying and rolling across the floor. All Will offered was a nervous chuckle and goofy smile. Frederick, suddenly feeling much more like his age, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

     “Todo esto es debido a que tocó mi mierda," He exasperated, watching Will move to try and pick up the bottles. He pulled Will back down, stopping him from getting out of the tub. This was _his_ time with the man he loved and he'll be damned if he let spilled bottles ruin it. Even if it was a bit pricey and Frederick's favorite. "Might as well clean it up later, it's all gone to shit now.” He dropped his hand back in the water and glared at Will, for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. “Eres un puto lío, ¿Sabes que?” Frederick said with a chuckle, and laid back into Will’s body. Will wrapped his arms around his lover and kissed his cheek.

     “I guess, but I’m your mess.” Will cooed. Frederick huffed at that, placing his hands on top of his partners larger ones. “And… I’ll pay you back for your shampoo that I wasted. Even though I could barely get a decent amount before you sniffed me out!”

     “You better, and I know my shampoos." Frederick stated proudly. "I like my _clarifying_ shampoos how I like my men; stripping and expensive.” And at that they both laughed, enjoying each other’s company until the water ran cold and their fingers turned into prunes. By the time they got out they were both thoroughly cleaned and wiped from the nightmares that plagued them both earlier in the night. They slept in that day, smiles on their faces, playful glints in their tired eyes, and I love you’s rolling off their tongues in between kisses and cuddles. Leaving the warmth of their bed only for food, bathroom breaks and to tend to Will’s dogs.

 

     This was all Frederick needed in life, and he would be a content man if this were all he ever obtained.

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it. I feel like a terrible person, but what's done is done. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed my first fic ever. Hopefully they aren’t to ooc. 
> 
> Translations: "Your cheap ass deserves nothing."
> 
> "This is all because you touched my shit,"
> 
> "You're a fucking mess, you know that?"
> 
> Leave a comment? Kudos?


End file.
